The TARDIS Remembers
by samwise of tardis
Summary: In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days. Series of Oneshots from the TARDIS' perspective, one for each Doctor. Feedback highly appreciated. Updating weekly.
1. Mother Knows Best

[ _In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]_

The old man strode into the TARDIS, his walking stick clicking against the tile floor with every other step. He was already in heated conversation with a young girl dressed all in grey from her cap to her trousers.

"…could have been killed! Really, Susan, this is _why_ I don't let you go off by yourself," the Doctor said. He hung his Astrakhan on the stand by the door.

"But Grandfather," the girl protested, "the Grand Vizier was torturing the peasants for information about us! I couldn't just stand by and let innocent people be tortured!"

"My dear, they were _not_ innocents," the Doctor huffed. "They were pirates and thieves. Scoundrels, to the last man." He moved to the console and began commencing dematerialization. "Come on, give me a hand."

"Still, Grandfather," Susan replied as she began running calculations on their space-time trajectory, "they had nothing to do with that Krilitane conspiracy. I had to give myself up! Set a vector of 28 by 17 degrees south," she added, reading off her calculations.

"Yes," the old man replied, as he set their course accordingly. "and a fine mess it got us into, too. There," he stepped back from the console, "temporal orbit established." He looked over at Susan, who was gazing at him respectfully, yet also with defiance.

"I had to save them," she said quietly. As he looked at her, the Doctor could not help but notice how much she was growing to resemble her father. He had been a good man, and a most satisfactory husband to his daughter until a sudden plague took both their lives.

The Doctor sighed. "I know, my dear. Of course you had to. It is because you are compassionate, just like your mother." He moved to one of the seats and patted the space beside him, inviting his granddaughter to join him. "Have I ever told you about when I traveled with your mother?"

Susan shook her head mutely as she crossed to the seat beside the Doctor, her expression curious but hopeful. Susan had barely known her parents, and was eager to hear more about them.

"It was a very long time ago," the Doctor began. "I was much younger then, and we were crossing the heartlands on foot."

"The heartlands!?" Susan exclaimed. "That wilderness? Whatever were you doing there?"

"It isn't important," the Doctor said. "Anyway, we were travelling, and we came across a boggy clearing. It was very much like the surface of Quarn 3, all dusty and covered in briars and thorns. I made a comment about how that area ought to be burned clear by the council and developed. Your mother—she was only about 45 at the time—took my hand in her little one and pulled me along, over thorns and brush and scrub, and pointed to a little pool of water. Around it was a whole bustling community of squish bugs, all vibrant red and blue and green. She looked up at me with her big, brown eyes, pointed to them and said, 'Why would you want to take their homes?'

"That was your mother all over. She was always seeing beauty and goodness where I- where others- only saw filth. And you are much the same, my dear, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble, Grandfather," Susan said meekly.

"Not at all, my girl," the old man smiled. "You have a special gift. Use it, whatever trouble it may cause me." The Doctor stood up. "And now it is time you got to bed, Susan."

The young Gallifreyan rose, too. "Thank you for telling me the story," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Grandfather. I love you."

"And I love you, too," he said.

After Susan had left the console room, the Doctor lit his pipe, sat back down and mused for a while.

"She's got real promise, you know," he said aloud. "But she needs training. She needs to learn how to blend in, to understand other species, and especially to be more careful." The Doctor stood and crossed to the controls. "I don't know if you can hear me, time capsule," he said. "I don't know if you like Susan's name for you." He tried the name out consideringly. "TARDIS… Please, if you can hear me, find my granddaughter a good school." More quietly, he added. "Find us some good teachers."


	2. Mind's Eye

[ _In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]_

Three figures stood around the console, not talking. One of them, currently operating two small keypads on the console, was dressed in a form-fitting silver jumpsuit. This was not as revealing as it might sound, for aside from its colour the outfit was rather utilitarian. She was, however, rather pretty, thought the young highlander. He was wearing a plain black shirt and a kilt, patterned in his family colours.

"There!" the girl said, as a chime sounded. She looked up from her work with a triumphant smile on her face.

"Oh, well done, Zoe!" the third figure said, applauding. A diminutive man in a rather scrappy and oversized suit, he looked like a better class of tramp, but his friends knew he was no vagabond. "You did it! Oh, I knew you could,"

"Ah, it did ne look so hard," the Scotsman said. "I could've done that."

Zoe stuck her tongue out at him. "I'd like to see you try, Jaime," she said. "In order to establish a temporal orbit, you've got to track to complex phasing equations in your head simultaneously and line them up using a quantum variable substitution at exactly the right moment."

Jamie, native to the 18th century, understood this not at all, and so subsided into silence. The only sounds were the thrum of the engines and "three blind mice," which was being played on a blue-striped recorder by the ragged man.

"Doctor," Jamie said eventually. "Do ye really not know what my face looks like?"

"What?!" The Doctor looked crossly over at Zoe, who blushed. "Sorry, Doctor. I didn't mean to tell him. We were comparing notes on what happened in the Fiction Universe and it…slipped out."

"It's alright, Zoe," the Doctor said kindly. "Yes, Jamie, it's true that, when the Master turned you into a picture, I put your face back together wrong."

"Doctor!" the boy said, looking hurt.

"However," the Doctor added quickly, "that's not because I don't know what you look like. I do, most of the time."

"Most of the time?" Zoe echoed. "How can you only remember something most the time?"

"Easily," the Doctor replied. "There are so many people in the universe, and when you've been around as long as I have, you remember more than a few faces. Sometimes they get…mixed up."

"But ye dinnae see them faces everyday, Doctor," Jamie argued. "Ye should know what your friends look like."

"Yes, well…" the Doctor said, looking embarrassed, "it's just that I don't always see you two the way you look."

"What do you mean, Doctor?" the young girl asked, looking confused.

The Doctor pocketed his recorder and smiled at his companions. "In my mind's eye," the Doctor began, "I see you not as you look, but as you are."

"Aye? And what's that supposed to mean?" Jamie said, clearly annoyed.

"I mean that I remember all the things about you that make you so important. Jamie, in my mind, I often see you as a great fiery pillar of stone, sitting in a pool of clear water. The pillar represents your resilience and strength and loyalty, and the water represents your kindness and bravery."

"And what about me, Doctor?" Zoe said eagerly.

The Doctor closed his eyes and considered. "I see you as a white raincloud, Zoe. The white represents your innocence, the cloud your intelligence, and the rain your compassion." He opened his eyes. "So, I hope you can forgive me for forgetting your face, Jamie," he concluded. "I was too worried about losing you to think about your outside details properly."

"Aye, I'll forgive ye, Doctor," Jamie said, smiling. "So, where to now?"

"I think we should take some time off now, really," the Doctor said, rubbing his hands together. "Go and fetch your bagpipes, Jamie. Let's have some fun." As the other ran to his quarters, the Doctor pulled his recorder from his pocket.

And they made the Time Vortex ring with music.


	3. Good Eggs

[In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]

A giant eye was all that could be seen at first, then it drew back to reveal a weathered face under a mop of silver hair, one eye magnified by the lens worn over it. "TARDIS recording matrix," the man said, turning it a various angles. "Your eyes seem to be working well enough, old girl, even if you can't reach temporal orbit anymore. Shame the same can't be said of mine." He polished the device against his red jacket and replaced it under the console, then began carefully extricating a different component whilst humming "Donna E Mobile" cheerfully to himself.

A young girl with blonde hair and a simple blue dress entered the console room. "Oh, hello Doctor!" she said, spotting the man; he, startled by her sudden interruption, banged his head against the inside of the console. "Ow! Careful, Jo," the Doctor's muffled voice replied.

"Sorry," the girl cringed as the Doctor carefully exited the mass of wires, rubbing his head. "The Brigadier asked me to tell you he wants to meet with us. He'd like to know if you want breakfast brought up."

"What's on the menu?" the Doctor said, setting the eyepiece and the mechanism he'd been removing on top of the time rotor.

"Eggs and bacon, I think,"

"Ugh, no. Not the way they do eggs here. Please don't touch that, it's fragile."

"What's wrong with the eggs here?" Jo asked, backing away from the console a step. She was not the most graceful around delicate things, and didn't want to further break the already stranded TARDIS.

"They're Earth eggs!" the Doctor complained. "Far too much white and not enough yolk, not to mention the complete absence of any cors'ca. Now, Venusian eggs, those are proper eggs."

"I'm sure the cook wouldn't mind using less white for you," Jo offered.

"And they cook them wrong, too," the Doctor said, ignoring this. "Always boiled or fried or scrambled…"

"Why, how do you like your eggs?"

"Blasted."

"What?" Jo said, taken aback.

"If those infernal Time Lords hadn't impounded the old girl, I would take you for Frellian blasted eggs. They're cracked open twelve feet in the air, and shot with a low-intensity infrared beam until they land, fully cooked, on the plate. Makes them moist and juicy. Delicious.

"As it is, though, I find myself quite sick of Earth cuisine." The Doctor said firmly. "Tell the Brigadier no, thank you."

Before Jo could respond, Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart himself entered, with three plates of scrambled eggs on toast and bacon on a trolley. "I heard you were both in here, so I thought I'd bring the food and join you," he began. Then, noticing the Doctor's expression, added, "Is something the matter?"

"The Doctor says he doesn't like Earth food," Jo informed him.

The Brigadier did not look impressed. "Yes, well, I'm sorry Doctor, but UNIT needs its scientific advisor in good condition."

"I'm more than capable of functioning without food, Brigadier," the Doctor said curtly.

"Doctor!" exclaimed Jo, shocked. "You can't miss breakfast! It's the most important meal of the day!"

"Quite so, miss Grant," the Brigadier nodded. "Eat, Doctor. That's an order."

The Doctor turned and looked at the concerned expressions of two people who, unlike the members of his own people who had abandoned him here, cared enough to make sure he was eating well.

"Well," the Doctor smiled. "I suppose there are at least a couple of good eggs on this planet." He pulled a chair over to the trolley, as did the other two. "Let's eat."


	4. I Dare You

_A/N: This one is Fluff, absolute unapologetic fluff. It wasn't what I set out to write; it just sort of...happened. Don't say I didn't warn you._

[In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]

"It's impossible."

"Impossible? That means it'll take 73 seconds."

The voices came from below the console, their owners unseen. Then, a woman crawled out from beneath it and stood up. She was dressed in a pink coat over a sensible brown dress, finished with a sturdy pair of boots. She looked very pretty; at the moment, though, she also looked rather cross.

"Doctor! Have you any idea how dangerous it is to tamper with the TARDIS circuitry whilst in temporal orbit?"

Something rolled out from under the console. It looked like less of a person and more a long brown carpet wrapped with a very long multicolored scarf and topped with a hat. An arm reached up and pulled the Scarf down, revealing a pair of wide eyes and an enormous Cheshire-cat grin. "Do you know, I actually don't, Romana. Isn't it exciting?"

"We could blow up!"

"Fine, fine," the Doctor said, putting his hands under his head. "So long as it doesn't take all day. Only, there's a few hundred different monsters out there, and one Black Guardian, who are very patiently waiting their turn to do me in."

"My point exactly!" Romana said, striding to the controls. "Overriding the Randomiser would allow the Black Guardian to track us and destroy us on the spot."

"Ahhhh," the Doctor said, seeming to levitate himself to standing in that energetic way of his, and stretching the syllable to last the entire movement. "But he can only track us if we're going in a straight line. And while that may be the most direct path, it's far from the most interesting. Do you know, I swear I've said that before at some point?" Romana simply raised an eyebrow. "Oh, look, it's simple," the Doctor said. "I've set the randomiser to randomly choose our flight path, the same as before. Only this time, the general destination is pre-determined. No more showing up unexpectedly at the doorsteps of my enemies."

"And you're sure the Guardian can't track us?"

"Sure? Sure!? Of course I'm sure! Really, Romana, when are you going to stop doubting my genius? I'm absolutely sure! Well, mostly sure."

"Ha!" the female Time Lord said, poking him in the chest. "I knew it! This is just another stupid risk."

"Romana, we're _Time Lords_. We never do anything *but* stupid risks. So why not stick to what we're good at, that's what I say."

"Fine," Romana huffed, pushing her blonde locks out of her face and examining the new addition to the console. "We'll give it a try. But only if *I* get to choose the destination."

The Doctor considered, then nodded. "Oh, alright then. If you must." He crossed to stand beside her. "So, where are we going?" Romana moved her hand to obscure the readout. "I'll surprise you, Doctor."

"Psssshh," the Doctor pshed. "You, surprise me? There's nothing you could do that would surprise me, my girl, I'll bet my hat on it."

Romana spun around instantly and kissed the Doctor.

There was a long, awkward silence. Romana blushed deeply and looked down, stepping away from the Doctor, who simply stared at her. Then, the Time Lord removed his hat and dropped it onto Romana's head, where it slid down over her eyes. She pulled it off, made eye contact with the Doctor, and together, they burst out laughing.

"Master?" came an electronic voice. A small pink cloud on a metal wire entered through the door. "Danger, Master, danger!"

"What is it, K-9?" the Doctor asked, suddenly all seriousness again.

"Detecting an unexpected surge in your heartbeats, Master," the metal dog said, coming into view. He had a long pink feather duster attached to his front laser, "and a 12.36% release of adrenaline and dopamine into your system. Medical assistance recommended."

"Oh, that's all fine K-9, we have it under control." The Doctor smiled affectionately at his loyal best friend. "You can go back to dusting the library, and if it happens again, don't come back here until its over."

"Very good, Master," the dog said, his ears waggling as he turned to go.

"And K-9?" the Doctor added.

"Yes, Master?"

"You're a good dog, K-9."

The little metal tail wagged back and forth as the robot continued out the door. "Affirmative, Master!"

The Doctor turned back to Romana. "Now, what I want to know is, is that going to happen again?"

"N-no, Doctor. Of course not. Sorry, I—"

"You were trying to surprise me, and so you did the first thing to come to mind, before I could see you thinking it." The Doctor smiled. "It's quite alright."

"Yes, right." Romana said, relieved.

"Though of course, I suppose I should have seen it coming," the Doctor continued, moving around the console and fiddling with the controls. "It's only natural around someone as dashing and intelligent as I, I can hardly blame you for noticing. So, just where is it we're going now?"

Romana smiled. "Now, you won't get me that easily. I'm not telling. Ah!" she held the hat, which he'd been moving to reclaim, out of his reach. "I won it from you, Doctor. You want it back, you'll have to surprise _me._ " She smiled sweetly. "Go on, Doctor. I dare you."


	5. The American Approach

_A/N: Peri's comments regarding Americans are her own, and do not represent the views of this half-American author, Big Finish, or the BBC. This is also probably a good time to mention that I don't own Doctor Who or any of the characters presented in this fanfiction. If you haven't yet had the pleasure of encountering Erimem, I recommend you seek out her debut in Eye of the Scorpion._

 _[In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]_

The TARDIS library had very few spaces of wall that weren't covered in books, and most of them held programmable false windows for reading by any weather. It was a massive room, with row upon row of every media and genre ever created. In one of the open spaces, a man and a woman sat on opposite sides of a small round table. Hovering over it was a large, transparent sphere, marked and grooved in a complex pattern. A number of coloured lights surrounded it, each moving on different orbits.

"What about switching that blue one-the one that just turned green- with the red one there?" the girl asked, pushing her short-cropped hair out of her face.

"No, that would trap the yellow one there, see?" the fresh-faced man said, pointing to another of the lights moving lazily in low orbit around the sphere.

"Well, how about this, then?" The girl stood and poked her finger into a bead of white light, which ceased moving, its tiny glow illuminating her dark complexion. Carefully, she pulled the light downward into the path of a blue light, which turned violet, increased speed, and slid sideways into a different orbit.

"Nicely done, Erimem," the man said, fetching a pair of spectacles from inside his white coat. Donning the glasses, he inspected the surface of the sphere. "Yes, that's definitely a step in the right direction. Now, if I do this…" He plucked at a large bead of light that matched his blonde hair and moved it up towards the path of a green light, which shuddered, slowed, and sunk directly into the path of a high speed blue. The two lights collided, and the surface of the sphere rippled. "Oh. Sorry."

"That's alright, Doctor," the girl laughed, catching the wildly ricocheting blue bead before it could do any further damage. The surface of the ball solidified its etched pattern even more complex. "You didn't see the green light, it was an easy mistake. All the same, this is quite tricky."

"It is rather, isn't it?" the Doctor agreed, polishing the leafy stalk of celery pinned to his lapel. "Though you should see the Expert level ones they have on Gallifrey. Some of them have smaller, orbiting spheres."

At that moment, a rather buxom girl entered the library, yawning. She noticed the others and headed for them. "Well, good morning, you two," she said, her distinctly American accent and otherwise chirpy tone holding just a hint of annoyance. "Nice of you to let me know where to find you."

"Ah. Well, we didn't wish to disturb you, Peri," the Doctor said placidly. "We knew you'd find us eventually."

"Oh, yeah? You never let me go off on my own outside the TARDIS," Peri pointed out.

"Yet you seem to be so good at doing it anyway," Erimem observed, eliciting a chuckle from both Peri and the Doctor.

"Why, Erimem, I do believe you are getting the hang of sarcasm nicely," Peri said. She looked up. "What are you two doing, anyway?"

"It's a Time Lord logic puzzle," the Doctor explained. "Each of the little colored lights is on a different temporal orbit, but they affect each other just the way moons and planets do. The beads change colour when they're in specific orbits. The goal is to get all the lights the right colour, speed, and orbit."

"But whenever you move one," Erimem added, "it affects the others in unpredictable ways. It's very tricky."

"Oh, I get it!" Peri said. "It's a Rubik's Cube!"

"Essentially, yes," the Doctor nodded. "A fifth-dimensional space simulation Rubik's cube."

Erimem looked confused. "What is a Rubix?" she asked.

As the Doctor explained the simpler modern earth puzzle to Erimem, Peri noticed a hammer sitting on another table nearby. "What's this doing here, Doctor?" She picked the hammer up. "Have you been adding more shelves or something?"

"Oh, that old thing?" the Doctor said, looking over. "It's a shockwave hammer. Useless for putting up shelves, but pretty handy for getting through walls. I wondered where that had gotten to."

Peri studied the puzzle. "How long have you been at this?" she asked.

"Only an hour or so today," the Doctor replied, "but I haven't solved one for the past hundred years or so."

"Well, then." Peri smiled. "Why don't we try the American approach?"

"What would that be?" the Doctor asked.

Peri swung the hammer and connected solidly with the floating sphere. The vibrations caused the surface of the sphere to blur and ripple immensely, as around it, the lights went mad, bouncing off one another in all directions. Eventually, they settled down and, to the amazement of all, the sphere's surface smoothed out completely blank.

"How on Gallifrey did you do that?" the Doctor said, stunned.

"When these kinds of puzzles get old, they start to wear out along the edges. Pieces click into the places they've been in the most. So introduce some randomness and it may well just solve itself, with a bit of luck."

"So, that's the American approach?" Erimem asked. "Hit it with a hammer?"

"Unfortunately, yes," the Doctor said. "You'd be surprised how many situations those people will try to solve with "hit something with a large stick.""

"Well, actually," Peri said, "the American approach is, if you can't win, cheat!" Everyone laughed.

"You know, I think I've got an old space-chess set around here somewhere," the Doctor said, deactivating the sphere. "What do you say, me against you two? The rules aren't all different to normal chess."

"What is this 'chest?'" Erimem asked. There was a pause as Peri explained the basic premise of chess.

"Ha! It's a war game!" Erimem laughed when Peri had finished. "I, Erimem-ushin-teperem, former pharaoh of Egypt, accept your challenge. You think you can beat the two of us on a war game? You're on, Time Lord!"


	6. Don't You Ever Change?

_A/N: Shoutout to Castielholmeshasthephonebox for consistently commenting on every chapter so far. We're at the halfway point now, so to anyone who's read this far: Have you noticed the hidden pattern yet?_

[In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]

The Console room, pristine white walls and a six-sided control panel with all manner of levers, buttons and readouts. Soft white light emanates from the roundels on the walls and illuminates the room's occupants. The first was a tall and robust man with a head of unruly blond curls, dressed in a suit of every colour and pattern imaginable. The trousers were yellow with red vertical stripe; the vest half plaid, half zig-zag; the floppy tie periwinkle with white polka-dots. The eye was most drawn, however, to the coat, with its pink and yellow lapels, red and salmon sleeves, green, burgundy, and tartan body, and purple lining. There's also a large pin in the shape of a cat attached to it.

The Room's other occupant was an Emperor Penguin, standing patiently behind, watching the man fiddle with the controls.

"Right, then," the man said standing back from the controls with a pleased expression. "We've achieved temporal orbit. Nothing to it, really. So," and here he turned to the penguin, "where shall we go today, then, Frobisher? Any requests?"

"Look, Doctor," the penguin replied. Its accent would sound somewhat American, except it's a talking penguin, and so defies traditional classifications. "I really do enjoy travelling with you and all, but-"

"Surely you're not looking to leave already?" the Doctor interrupted, a little shocked.

"No," Frobisher said quickly. "No, I'd like to stay, but, uh…you've been wearing those clothes for the past four days. Don't you ever change?"

"Far more than you could imagine," the Doctor retorted. "Of course I change my clothes! What do you take me for, some kind of savage?"

Frobisher resisted the rebuttal that instantly sprang to mind. "Hey, Doc, don't get me wrong, you're a great guy and all, but like I said, those are the same clothes you were wearing when we met."

"Actually, no," the Doctor informed him. "They are not. I own a dozen variations of this outfit, and even if I didn't, the TARDIS laundry can clean, dry, and press a full load of clothing in under twenty minutes. Also," he added as an afterthought, "kindly refrain from referring to me as 'Doc.'"

"really?" said Frobisher, taken aback. "Why?"

"Because it's unseemly and undignified," the Doctor replied loftily. "How would you like it if I started calling you 'Frobie,' or some such?"

"No, no," Frobisher said dismissively. "why do you own so many sets of that—that ridiculous outfit?"

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous!?" the Doctor cried, visibly affronted. "I'll have you know this is the height of fashion in five systems!"

"Yeah, and all of them colourblind," Frobisher retorted, rolling his eyes. "you look so silly, Doctor! Talk about undignified. You should try something more serious. Something like…" the penguin concentrated, and then rippled, like an image in a pond. In a moment, an exact copy of the Doctor stood opposite him, only wearing a sharp tuxedo and a top hat. "like this," the not-Doctor finished in the same American accent. "that's not bad, is it?"

The Doctor looked himself up and down. "Bad, no." he said at last. "It's atrocious. I don't wish to suggest I could ever look ordinary, but even I would miss myself in a crowd wearing that. I don't want to blend in! I need to be noticed if I'm to save planets in time!"

The image shifted again, and now Frobisher was wearing a plain green polo shirt under a leather jacket, with simple black trousers and sturdy boots. "How about something like this, then?" Frobisher suggested. "Unusual, striking, comfortable."

"Well, that is considerably better," the Doctor said grudgingly, "but…"

"yes?" Frobisher asked after a moment.

"Boring," the Doctor said firmly. "it's just too practical! I need something with a bit of flair!"

"I'd say you've got all the flair anyone could take as it is," Frobisher muttered, but the form wavered again and-

"No, No, No!" the Doctor exclaimed in distaste. "Tweed? A Bow Tie!?" I'm a Time Lord, not a university lecturer! It just isn't me!" he finished, very firmly.

"Okay, okay, keep your shirt on," Frobisher said hastily. "Got one more idea." And now, he was wearing a suit that was almost identical in shape to the one the Doctor currently wore. However, this one was done all in shades of blue, darker for the vest and coller, lighter for the trousers and tie. "This any good?" Frobisher asked without much hope.

"hmmm…" the Doctor mused, walking around to view the proposition from various angles. "yes, that is rather nice, I suppose. Quite regal. Especially with the gold watch chain and cat pin. And I think I've even got a winter cloak that matches it… alright." He said at last. "I'll have the TARDIS copy the design and I'll give it a try." He fiddled needlessly with the controls as Frobisher reassumed the guise of an earth penguin. "Thanks, Frobisher. I knew you'd be good to have around."

"Gee, thanks, Doc," Frobisher said sarcastically.

"Frobisher!"

"-tor" he finished with a sigh. Suddenly the TARDIS shook, and a number of alarms went off.

"The TARDIS has just set in a course!" the Doctor shouted over the noise. "I think it's looking for somewhere for us to try out the new coat."

"Oh boy." Frobisher said quietly. "What have I got myself into this time?"


	7. Hide and Seek

_A/N: Ah, the Seventh Doctor. What a puzzle. He's the most complex of the Doctors, in my opinion, and when he's written well, he's fabulous. When he's not, which is often... well. I certainly hope I've done him justice here._

 _[In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]_

A corridor, somewhere in the TARDIS. The Spartan white floor and ceiling above go well with the austere walls, white, patterned with alternating glowing roundels.

Only the lower half of the man is visible, wearing khaki green plaid trousers. The rest of him is stuck deep into an open roundel near the floor.

"Bother" the man said, in an odd, squeaky voice that downplayed his Scottish accent. "The Klister valve is out of alignment. And the Synchronic multi-loop stabilizer is misfiring, too…won't be making temporal orbit again any time soon, old girl." A hand emerged from the hole and felt around for the toolbox by his leg. "Spanner, spanner…Ace? Ace!" the voice rose to a shout, then suddenly went quiet and brooding. "Oh, I don't suppose there's any point. She's probably down in the lab making more Nitro-9 while my back is turned. 'While the cat's away, the cheese will play.' Aha."

Footsteps could be heard for a moment, and then a teenaged girl turned the corner. Catching sight of the man, she headed towards him. "Professor," she said, "what are you doing?"

"Ah, there you are, Ace," the man said. Hand me the spanner, would you?"

Ace got down on her knees to sort through the toolbox, causing her plaited pigtail to fall forward onto her shoulder. She held up the wrench, then placed it into the man's hand. "there you go, professor." She sat down cross-legged next to him, one hand resting on the black umbrella leaning against the wall.

"I'm the Doctor, not the Professor, Ace" the Doctor reminded her.

"Right," Ace said. "Sorry, Doctor. So what are you doing in there?"

"Repairing the TARDIS," the Doctor replied he rolled the r in 'repairing' a trifle more than was necessary. "She's getting on a bit and needs some care every now and then." This was followed by a series of loud bangs. A bit of smoke leaked out through the hole.

"You know, Professor," Ace said after a bit, "you're always fiddling with the TARDIS machinery and muttering to yourself. Don't you ever get out and have some fun?"

"Certainly!" the Doctor replied, still making banging noises. "We went to that concert, remember?"

"What, the one where we got shot at?" Ace said slyly. "And then the Cybermen turned up?"

"Yes, well," the Doctor said dismissively. "Not even a Time Lord can be certain of his safety all the time. Especially when it's me. Hand me the screwdriver."

"Nope," Ace said, moving it out of his reach. The Doctor scrabbled around but couldn't find it.

"Ace! If I don't fix this we could be stuck here forever!"

"well, that should give you plenty of time to find the tools, then," Ace said, as the Doctor slid out of the hole. A quick glance told him they were nowhere in sight. "what did you do with them!?" he exclaimed.

"Well, Professor," the girl said, unbuttoning her large leather coat, "I looked up an old friend of yours, who told me you used to have a good deal more fun than we ever do. She agreed to come and help me persuade you." Before the Doctor could respond, another, older voice floated down the corridor to them. "Come on, Doctor," it said. "Let's see if you know your own home as well as I do. You never used to." The speaker laughed, and there was the sound of running footsteps.

The Doctor blinked. "Sarah?" he said. "Sarah-Jane Smith?" Ace grinned, and opened her jacket, revealing yet more of the patches which covered the exterior, and pockets containing about half of the tools. "You're it!" she shouted, and ran.

The Doctor grabbed the white Panama hat sitting in one of the roundels. "Ace!" he cried, waving his arms. At the end of the hall, the girl turned to look. "How dare you do this? I am the Doctor, the President Elect of Gallifrey, Defender of the laws of time and space! And," his serious expression suddenly melting away as he jammed the hat onto his head, "I have far more experience running down corridors than both of you put together!" And, with both of them laughing, he took off in pursuit.


	8. I Can Explain!

_A/N: The Eighth Doctor and Charlotte Pollard are my Doctor Who OTP, hands down, and I couldn't pass up this opportunity to write them a bit of fluff. Their story begins in "Storm Warning." If that's not your kind of thing, normal service resumes next week._

 _Also, Kudos to "TARDISBlueBox" for finding the hidden pattern. (It's a phrase repeated in every story, for anyone who wants to keep looking for themselves.)_

 _[In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]_

It took the eye a moment to adjust to the dim blue lighting that filled the vast new console room, which resembled a gentleman's private library more than the austere control centre of previous designs. And certainly, the man humming to himself as he moved around the wood and brass controls in the centre of the room looked the part of such an English gentleman.

Suddenly, the man pulled off his green overcoat and flung it down in frustration. "Ugh! Stupid!"

The attractive young woman across the room turned away from the bookshelves to regard him.

"You aren't usually so easily angered," she noted. "What's up, Doctor?"

"Oh, it's the TARDIS, Charley," the Doctor explained. "Every Time Lord is bonded to his ship through the Rassilon Imprimatur." He pressed a few buttons, to no apparent effect. "That means I should be able to understand to some degree the situation when something goes wrong. I shouldn't be getting a series of indecipherable error messages!" He tried some more buttons and received a decidedly negative sounding tone in response. The Doctor turned away from the console and flung himself into an armchair, sulking.

Charley Pollard came to sit opposite him, closing her book and setting it in her lap. "This couldn't have anything to do with me, could it?" she asked worriedly.

"Charley, we've been through this," the Doctor said, head back, staring at the ceiling.

"And you're sweet to keep on reassuring me," Charley replied, "but all these coincidences one after another…Ramsay, Edward Grove, Sebastian Grayle, and now this…That's a lot of coincidence. And I am supposed to be dead."

"Oh, Charley," the Doctor chuckled, "My life is a never-ending string of these sorts of things." He smiled at her. "It has been since long before I saved you. The TARDIS is pretty old now. She's probably just having a glitch in the communication lines. Aha!" he suddenly jumped to his feet.

"What is it?" Charley asked, confused.

"Oh, How could I have forgotten?" the Doctor laughed. "If the psychic communication is glitching, then… activate voice control!" Instantly, a small emitter on one side of the controls activated, projecting a life-sized hologram of the Doctor into the space beside him. "Voice control activated," it said, in an accurate, though slightly unemotional, replica of the Doctor's voice.

The Doctor looked at himself for a moment. "Why, hello there, me. A perfect holographic replication of this ship's captain. Boring!" He rushed suddenly to the other side of the controls to check the small monitor hanging from the top of the long Time Column in the middle of the controls. "Why don't you give me someone more interesting?" he said.

The hologram of the Doctor melted and reformed into a small but extremely shapely girl with short brown hair, wearing a form-fitting silver catsuit. "Error 307.6 Alpha 2," it said, the voice now feminine and intelligent-sounding.

Charley jumped up in surprise, her book falling out of her lap to the floor with a thump. "Who is that, Doctor?" she demanded.

"Hm?" The Doctor glanced up cursorily from the controls, his hands still blurring across the keyboard. "Oh, that's Zoe. Explain the meaning of error 307.6 Alpha 2," he shot at the hologram.

"Proximity to time corridor has activated emergency temporal orbit holding pattern," the hologram responded. "Precise co-ordinate instructions required to continue."

"I see," Charley said angrily. "And how long have you known her?"

"Oh, quite a while now, but-" too late, the Doctor registered Charley's tone and accusing stare. "No, Charley, it isn't like that."

"Oh, yeah, right," Charley spat. "You've just been traveling with another girl without mentioning it or me seeing her in passing. Sure, Doctor."

"No, Charley-Charley! Charley, I can explain!"

"Oh, no need to explain," the girl responded, eyeing the other girl's tight-fitting outfit. "Everything is quite clear, thank you. It would seem I'm not good enough for you. Well, that's fine! I'll just-"

She was cut off suddenly as the Doctor, having apparently worked his way around the control to stand next to her, enveloped her in a tight hug. "Hey! Let go of me!" She struggled, but the Doctor was larger than her and had her arms pinned to her sides.

"Charley, Zoe Heriot travelled with me some five hundred years ago," the Doctor said quietly. "She now has no memory of me or of our time together." Charley heard the sadness in his voice and stopped struggling. "She was a kind girl, intelligent, good with computers, though she had a knack for getting herself into trouble and needing to be rescued. I promise you, I do not favor her over you."

"And you haven't travelled with anyone else for the past five hundred years?" Charley asked suspiciously.

"Charley, your last boyfriend turned out to be a temporal construct used by his immortal grandfather to try and kill me," he chided her. "Yes, I've travelled with other people in the past. That doesn't matter, they're…gone." His voice cracked. "They left me, or were lost, or…What matters is that I'm travelling with you now, and I don't favor *anyone* over my best friend Charley."

Gently, Charley pulled her arms out from the Doctor's pin and embraced him in return. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I must look so childish. And I've brought up all those sad memories."

"It happens," he shrugs. "Sooner or later, they all found out about the others. Some take it okay. One girl attacked me over it." He tried to keep the sadness out of his voice, but Charley could feel it in him as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I should deal with the TARDIS," the Doctor said after a moment.

"It can wait a bit longer," Charley said, not releasing him.

"I suppose it can," he replied, meeting her gaze and smiling.


	9. Wingmaster

_A/N: Sorry, sorry, I missed a week whilst I was out of town. Normal service now resumes. Yes, technically these characters never met, but don't you wish they had?_

 _[In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]_

The Console room had changed dramatically from its time as a sumptuous library. the Roundels had returned, as had the white tiled floors, but the room was far from pristine now. Tangles of cables hung from the ceiling and snaked across the floor, piling up and wrapping around the pillars which, like parts of the console, were visibly made of TARDIS coral; the interior design circuits were apparently malfunctioning. Leaning against one of them was a man with close-cropped hair, large ears, and a leather jacket worn over a red shirt.

"Ah well," he said, standing up suddenly and moving to the controls. He spoke with a broad accent that would have been at home in the north of England. (The speaker, personally, doubted he'd ever feel "at home" anywhere ever again.) "That may not have worked out as well as I'd hoped, but it wasn't a total loss." He set to work, efficiently moving the TARDIS into a temporal orbit using just one set of controls.

He paused. "Where to go now, then?"

"Does it really matter, Doctor?" said a voice from behind him. he spun on the spot to find a woman in an extremely old-fashioned purple dress suit leaning against the pillar where he'd been standing minutes before. "I mean, wherever you try to go, you'll inevitably just end up blundering into danger, making a mess of things, and doing something infuriatingly heroic and selfless before vanishing off into the vortex again. That is how it works, isn't it?"

"Who the hell are you?" the Doctor said. "How did you get in here?"

"tsk, tsk, so rude!" the woman said, making an attempt to look offended, which quickly broke into a wicked smile. "I like it. Just look at you! So angry." she moved in uncomfortably close to him and looked him over. "Not sure about those ears, though, are you really going to keep them?" when the Doctor's expression didn't change, she sighed. "You're still no fun, though. I'm Missy. I just decided to...drop in." She put her umbrella over her shoulder, causing her sleeve to slip down, revealing the bulky cuff strapped to her wrist.

The Doctor stared at it. "You used a Vortex manipulator to get into a TARDIS mid-flight!? That's impossible!"

"Oh, impossible is for other people, dear." Missy replied calmly. "Not for Time Lords like us." She laughed at the Doctor's expression; he appeared to have been unexpectedly slapped. "Didn't you notice? You're losing your touch, old man."

"You...You survived?"

"Well…" Missy considered. "I will have. I haven't yet, but I'm going to have. By the way," she added. "Where is that lovely companion of yours? I hate to have her walk in on us and panic, she might hurt herself." Missy's tone implied this would be more of a nuisance than a real problem.

"I don't have a companion," the Doctor growled. "I haven't had one since the War started."

"Well, that is a problem," Missy said. "You tend to get ever so dull when you're alone, all grim and suicidal. I need you alive in the future." she sighed theatrically. "well, I was planning to use the afternoon to do something positively heinous, but I guess it'll have to wait." she located the hat rack in one corner and hung her umbrella neatly off of it.

"What are you doing?" the Doctor asked.

"Oh, do pay attention," Missy rolled her eyes. "I'm going to help you find a new friend. That's what old friends are for. Now. Have you really not run into anyone suited to getting captured and asking questions that make you look smart? I find that rather hard to believe."

"There was one…" the Doctor said, a little softly. "Her name was Rose. Resourceful, clever, talented…"

"pretty?"

The Doctor scowled. "I didn't notice."

"Ha! Look at you, Tiger! You're actually smitten with one of them! How pathetically romantic of you. So where is she? Don't tell me you let her nobly sacrifice herself for the greater good or some such nonsense; that's your job!"

"I asked her to come with." The Doctor said. "She wasn't interested."

"Have you gone completely soft!?" Missy said in mock astonishment. "You seriously couldn't get one of those primitive monkeys to come with you? I bet you didn't even mention you had a time machine!"

The Doctor blinked. "I didn't ment-You're right, I didn't. It never came up."

"Well, there you go, then!" Missy said, exasperated. "All you need to do is go back to a little after you left and give her a bit more incentive! And if that doesn't work," she put an arm around the Doctor's shoulders, "You let me talk to her woman to woman and I'll soon convince her. I can be very persuasive when I want to be." she winked. "One other thing, clean this place up before you invite her home, it's a mess."

"Circuits are broken, there's only one other available setting," the Doctor said absently, working the controls.

"Anything would be better than this." Missy grabbed her umbrella and fiddles with the controls on her manipulator. "I'll give you some space, and check back to see how it went in a couple of hours. Ta-ta now!" she all but sang, and vanished.

The Doctor hardly seemed to notice. he was deep in thought. "Did I mention it also travels in time?" he murmured, then nodded to himself. "worth a shot."


	10. Spaceman

_A/N: What would make a more fitting tribute to the Tenth Doctor than something suitably Timey-Wimey? The Tenth Doctor and Donna noble are, in my opinion, the greatest Doctor-companion team in the show's long history. I hope I've done them both justice._

 _[In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]_

Despite the dim lighting and textured, dark walls, the man in the brown suit seemed perfectly comfortable. He danced around the haphazard mess of controls, pulling levers with dramatic flourishes, and occasionally simply whacking them with a rubber mallet. Nothing was remotely labelled, except for a small green light with "Temporal Orbit" written in block text below it.

This dance was interrupted unexpectedly by a loud knocking coming from the exterior door. "Who on earth could that be?" he wondered aloud. Adjusting the angle of his straw stetson, he strode confidently to the doors and flung them open.

"Oh my gosh, it's really you!" the red haired woman said excitedly, wrapping the shocked man in an enthusiastic hug. "I'm so glad I've finally found you, Doctor!"

"D-donna?" the Doctor managed, his rib cage apparently being crushed by the woman. "What on earth are you doing here? How-"

"Looking for you, of course, you prawn," Donna replied, releasing him. "I've been trying to find you ever since you up and disappeared after that business with the spider-lady. All that research and tracking and then I just happen to bump into you by accident! it's a funny old world, innit?"

"It certainly is," the Doctor agreed gravely.

"well, aren't you glad to see me, Spaceman?" Donna asked, looking slightly worried.

The Doctor took a deep breath and arranged his face into a bright smile. "of course I am! Just rather surprised. The Doctor moved to the console and rummaged underneath it, producing a kettle. "tea?" he asked, holding it up.

"Oh, yes, please, I'm parched," Donna smiled, adjusting the artificial lei inexplicably around her neck. "Oh! I'm just so excited, I can't believe it's really you!"

The Doctor placed the kettle on a circular pad on the console, which immediately lit up red hot. He then began rummaging under the console again. "I'm sure I have some cups down here somewhere."

Donna stopped moving around and watched the Doctor Carefully. "Um, Doctor," she ventured, "Tell me what's wrong."

"What? No, nothing's wrong," he replied, not looking away from the console.

"Oh, don't give me that, spaceman," the woman glared at him. "You don't want me here."

The Doctor turned around quickly, looked her straight in the eye and said, "I absolutely want you here. You're my best friend, you know that? And I'd love you to stay, but you can't."

"Why?" Donna sounded hurt.

"You just can't."

"Doctor…" She said warningly.

The Doctor sighed. "you can't come with because...in your future, you're going to run across me in my past. You can't travel with me now because you've already been travelling with me. I'm really sorry, Donna, but you're going to have to keep looking for me." so saying, he turned back to the rummaging. "Where are those teacups? I didn't leave them in Madrid, did I?"

A moment's silence, then "But I do find you?"

"Oh yes."

"where?"

"I can't tell you that. Spoilers."

"Spoilers? Okay, but," she shook her head, trying to focus. "If I find you in my future, where am I? Why isn't future me with you? Did...do I…"

With his back still to his friend, the Doctor's expression was momentarily one of complete despondance. then he transfigured it into a bright smile as he turned towards her. "Nah! of course not!" he said energetically, fingers crossed behind his back. "You just decided to take a weekend off with-" the Doctor cut himself off abruptly, as though he'd caught himself about to give away too much. "well, least said, soonest mended." he spun on the spot, thrust his hand into the console and withdrew it triumphantly holding two cups just as the kettle began to whistle. "HA!"

The tea was brewed and served, and soon the Doctor and Donna sat together on the bench, sipping tea.

"There's something else, isn't there, Doctor? Please don't lie to me." Donna said, not looking at the Doctor. The latter carefully set his teacup down and stood up, taking a few steps away and considering.

"You told me I shouldn't travel alone, Donna," he said, voice trembling slightly, "And you were right. And-Rassilon!" he swore. "I think- I've done something very bad. I'm-I'm-" He took a deep breath. "I'm not sure I deserve to be the Doctor anymore."

Donna nodded. "Yeah, no offence, but I don't find that particularly surprising."

"What?" the Doctor said, somewhat thrown off by this.

"For all your talk about being this superior alien being, Doctor, you really are stupid sometimes." Donna observed casually. "All that pain and anger inside you, all that loss. I watched you nearly drown a hive of children and you thought, what, that I'd be surprised that you've got a dark side?"

"yes, well…" The Doctor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Maybe I'm just getting too old for this. I've lost so much, and been responsible for so much more… Perhaps it's time.

Donna actually laughed. "You think you're so important, so much bigger than the rest of us, don't you?" she said. "News flash, Spaceman: Other people make big mistakes, too. That's no excuse to just give up!"

"Then what am I supposed to do?" the Doctor shot back.

"What everyone else in the universe does!" her tone softened. "Do what we all do when we realize we've been wasting our lives doing temp work in Chiswick. You learn from your mistakes and change who you are."

"Perhaps it is time, then, after all…" the Doctor murmured. He smiled at Donna, and hugged her. "You're amazing. Never forget that, Earth Girl. Now" he stood up suddenly, back to his old self as though nothing had happened. "It's time for you to go. You'll find me soon enough. in the meantime, there's a big world full of adventure out there, and you know just where you'll find me."

"Right in the middle of it, I expect," she retorted. "Goodbye, Doctor. Say hello to future me for me." and placing the empty cup on the console, she left.

The Doctor waited until she was gone, then carefully, deliberately, retrieved the tea cup. once it was safely stored, he returned to the controls and set a course for the planet of the Ood. "The song is ending," he mused. "Time to try a new tune."


	11. Night Shift

_A/N: Okay, this one was weird. Inspired by Moffat's short episodes "Time" and "Space," and some ideas about how the Doctor Who comics might fit into the show's timeline. It's just bizarre enough I think it might merit a T rating, and I'd appreciate you're thoughts on that. As ever, thanks for reading and commenting._

 _[In the life of the Doctor there are good days, and there are bad days. Sometimes, when he's feeling down, the TARDIS (who has a very long memory), takes over the viewscreen and reminds him of the good days.]_

The console room shone, there was no other word for it. Golden light filled the large multi-levelled room, seeming to emanate from the walls themselves. In the center of the room, the magnificent time rotor glowed a faint blue, surrounded on all sides by elegant but haphazard control panels.

The doors swung open suddenly to admit two figures: a redheaded woman wearing a pineapple-print dress under a leather jacket, and a brown-haired man in jeans and a dark button down shirt.

"So, what now?" the woman said, mounting the stairs and crossing to the controls. "Straight home, or do you feel up for another trip first?"

"Shouldn't we wait for the Doctor to get back before deciding that, Amy?" the man replied, removing his jacket and hanging it on the stand next to the door.

"Oh, he won't be long, Rory" the redhead replied dismissively. "You know he doesn't like to hang about. He just has to sign over the position of Marshalship officially, and then we'll be on our way in no time."

"Hello?" A familiar voice called from the hallway leading out of the console room. "Who's there?" Moments later, a woman appeared at the top of the stairs. She was identical to the one standing next to the console, but dressed in a white nightgown.

Rory looked from one Amy to the other, the look of confusion on his face matching the identical expressions of the two girls. After a moment, the new Amy smiled wryly. "Well, hello there, Gorgeous," she addressed her other self. "And who is your handsome friend?"

"She doesn't recognize me?" Rory murmured, confused.

"This must be me from back when you had been erased from existence," Amy realized.

"That can happen?"

Amy Shrugged, "The Doctor did say once that all kinds of strangeness can happen if you don't get the temporal orbit right. I have no idea what he was talking about, but...We have to be careful not to give anything away." more loudly, she said, "Oh, don't mind us, we're only passing through."

"What a shame," the younger Amy replied, descending the stairs to join them next to the console. "If I'd known we'd have company, I would have worn something more attractive."

The older girl looked her past self up and down. "Oh, you don't need to, trust me," she found herself saying.

"Maybe for hanging around the TARDIS," the other replied, "but looks like yours shouldn't be holed up in here."

"You're not so bad yourself," Amy countered, before she could stop herself.

Young Amy grinned. "I bet you know how to show a girl a good time."

Amy tried to stop herself, but it was too hard to resist. "I bet you know how to have one." The two Amy's were standing very close together now, almost touching.

"You know," Rory cut in, sounding annoyed. "I'm pretty sure this isn't supposed to happen. Maybe you should just go back to bed and forget you saw us."

"Oh, but it's so lonely," the young Amy said, not breaking eye contact with herself. "Why don't you come tuck me in?"

"ARC! That's enough!" someone shouted. The three spun around to see a man in a brown suit and a red bow tie, a smudged fake tattoo still covering part of his face.

"Doctor, I-" Amy started.

The Doctor ignored her, staring at the other Amy. "You heard me, ARC. What do you think you're doing?

There was a squishy sound, and when Amy turned around, she found her younger self had been replaced by a very tall white creature, vaguely humanoid, with two large black eyes one below the other.

::ARC is...Learning:: the being replied.

"Oh, I bet you are." The Doctor said dryly. "I think you've learned enough from her for one day."

"Excuse me, Doctor," Rory said. "Would you mind explaining what the hell is going on?"

"Oh, this is ARC," the Doctor explained. "The Autonomous Reasoning Center. A shapeshifter who learns telepathically. I liberated him one time when I was saving the world while you two were asleep. He tends to stay in the library most of the time, but he apparently caught the scent of your thoughts, Amy, and got curious. He shouldn't have tricked you like that, though. Say you're sorry, ARC."

::ARC is sorry:: the being rumbled obediently.

"So, wait," Rory said. "You mean you've started travelling with other people when we're not around now?"

"Um…" the Doctor looked embarrassed.

"Meanwhile," Amy added, "it's still getting longer and longer between every visit from you. And now you're, what, training up our replacements when we're not around?"

There was another squishy sound, and Rory and Amy turned to find an exact replica of the Doctor straightening his bow tie. "Come now, Ponds, do you really think you're replaceable?" he asked, in a slightly exaggerated imitation. "You'll never get me to actually admit it, but I could no more leave you than leave the TARDIS herself! I only travel with other people when you're busy because I can't stand not having people to be impressed by how clever and good-looking I am."

Amy and Rory burst out laughing, and both Doctors joined in. The Doctor finally shut the doors and crossed to his companions, pulling them into a crowded hug. "Come on, you three," he said. "Let's all go on an adventure."


End file.
